


Virtue

by YassBanrion



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YassBanrion/pseuds/YassBanrion
Summary: *On Hiatus* After Alec is rescued from a death sentence for treason, he must figure out how to save the shadowhunters from destruction while dealing with his conflicting feelings for his own people.Slightly alternative universe set during the Dark Artifices, where Horace Dearborn manages to become consul.





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander Lightwood, under the new clave laws pertaining to shadowhunter relations with downworlders you have been found guilty of wilfully entering into a personal relationship with a warlock. Downworlders, are, under the new laws, forbidden to have any involvement with clave business. They are not to be trusted.

You put your people at risk and for that I have no choice but to find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death. You will remain in the Gard until such time as your sentence will be carried out. The law is hard, Alexander, but it is the law. With those words Horace Dearborn turned his back and left the room, the cell door slamming behind him.

Alec stood motionless for a time, listening to the sound of his own heartbeat pounding and the blood rushing to his head. He felt dizzy, as if he might pass out on the spot but he took a shaky breath and sat down on his cement bed. 

Death. He would die,and soon, the thought felt distant to him like it was not even a possibility. Alec had been present at executions in the past, they were brutal. Prisoners were burned alive, and even those determined to not show fear eventually gave in, their screams showing their excruciating pain. 

Alec would die in agony, as a traitor and would be thrown into a traitors grave. But he did not regret his actions, how could he, Magnus had given him a life. He had given him a family. 

But he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit how frightened he was. He thought of his family, they would be getting the news of his impending execution at any moment. They would be devastated. 

He thought of Magnus, he hated to leave him but selfishly he was glad it wasn’t the other way around. He couldn’t have survived losing Magnus but Magnus had survived loss in the past and he would survive this.

He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, picturing himself in Magnus’ arms, safe and warm. Their children playing in the same room. He choked back a sob and curled his knees up against his chest remaining like that until he fell into a restless sleep.

He dreamt he was running through a field of beautiful flowers, red and glistening they shone in the sun. Magnus was standing ahead of him, waiting for him, calling to him. Alec tried to reach him but the faster he tried to run the slower he seemed to move. He suddenly felt like he was attempting to wade through water.

When he looked down he realised the flowers were melting on the ground, their petals liquifying and pooling under his feet. He stumbled and fell on his hands and knees and realised that he was surrounded by blood. 

The smell made his throat burn and his eyes water, it was getting higher and higher. He started to panic,and struggle but it was no use it was too thick and it was sucking him in like quick sand. He realised he was going to drown. He called to Magnus for help but he had disappeared, Alec was alone and he screamed as the darkness enveloped him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Alec woke suddenly with the bang of his cell door being thrown open, 3 men walked in carrying various items. Alec knew they were here to prepare him for his execution, and he took several deep breaths to stop himself from shaking. He slowly sat up, swinging his legs around to the floor, and stood up. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, he would keep himself calm and allow them to do their job. He looked each of them in the eye, straightened himself up and nodded to show his readiness.

The men started the work. They made him strip completely out of his clothes so he was standing naked in the centre of the room. He didn’t even feel embarrassed, an earlier version of himself might have tried to cover himself up but now he simply didn’t care. They started to scrub his skin, removing the dirt that had formed from being locked in his cell for weeks. They scrubbed until his skin was raw and he realised without the dirt how pale he was.

His Parabatai ruin stood out against his stomach stark and black. He couldn’t help but stare at it, and he did something he had promised himself he wouldn’t do, he reached out and tried to feel Jace. He felt despair, sadness, helplessness, his brothers feelings mirroring his own. He tried to calm his own feelings to let Jace know he was ok but he couldn’t stop the tremble inside himself. 

He snapped back to reality when he saw one of the men taking out a scissors, he stifled an almost laugh, they were doing to kill him and they were worried about his hair. He was definitely losing it. Still he felt an extra pang of sadness as they hacked off his hair, leaving it just long enough to touch the top of his ear. 

When they were finished with him, they handed him robes, they were bright orange, simple, they reminded him of Catarina’s hospital scrubs. He was given no shoes, he supposed they didn’t want to waste more than they had to, the clothes would be burned with him.

He put them on and stood waiting for the men to move him, he realised they hadn’t spoken to him or each other once. He realised how long it was since he spoke to another person. Someone he wanted to speak to. He would die and he would never get to have another conversation with anyone he loved, the thought made him feel sick. He didn’t have time to dwell before he was handcuffed and they began to lead him down to the courtyard.

Stepping out into the light his eyes burned, he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, his retinas had become used to the dark and the brightness disorientated him. He was led to the holding cell and locked inside, he looked around and noticed a few other people there. 

There was a faerie with wings for ears, a warlock with a third eye in the middle of his forehead and a few other shadowhunters. He turned around and put his back to them and stared at the platform. Horace Dearborn and a scattering of cohort members already stood there. 

He looked around to see what other people were standing around, he always wondered who would want to go to executions. His mother had made him go to one when he was a teenager to scare him into never breaking the law and he had been scarred by the experience. He didn’t recognise any of the people there and breathed a sigh of relief, he couldn’t have dealt with any of his family seeing seeing this. 

A small stout man Alec recognised from council meetings, perhaps from the Norway institute he thought, cleared his throat, opened a scroll on front of him and called out a name. “Morlanso Coates”, the guards moved in and dragged the 3 eyed warlock out. He caught Alec’s eyes and he looked terrified, he started to struggle but the guards had a firm grip. 

The man spoke again, “You have been found guilty of the kidnapping of two mundane children and you have been sentenced to death”. The Warlock’s handcuffs were attached to a chain at the top of the steps, over a grate built into the stone floor. He was struggling more now, pulling at the chains, begging them to let him go, that he was innocent, that they were his children. Adopted. They had the sight. They needed him. 

Alec believed him.

Alec started to feel sick, he felt like he was bracing himself for a massive bang. Suddenly, the warlock was engulfed in flames, and Alec stepped back in horror. It was worse than he remembered from his childhood, the warlocks screams seemed to penetrate into Alec’s soul. The smell was over whelming, and it seemed to go on for an eternity. When it was over the grate opened and the warlocks remains fell through into a pit. Alec started to shake, he tried to control his fear and breathe but it was too much.

“Alexander Lightwood”, he barely had time to register his name being called when the guards grabbed him and started to drag him towards the stairs. Alec had promised himself he wouldn’t fight, he swore he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, so he walked as calmly as he could between the guards. 

He looked this man in the eyes as he read his crime “You have been found guilty of treason, and you have been sentenced to death”. He wished he could remember his name.

He felt the tug of his handcuffs being attached, and he started to shake. His bare feet were digging into the grate, he could feel the ashes from the last prisoner under his toes. He felt sick from fear, and he closed his eyes and tried to picture himself somewhere better.

In Magnus’ arms, making pancakes with his children, training with Jace and Isabelle, eating at Takis with Clary and Simon, laughing and joking and surrounded by love.

He braced himself for the rush of flames, put everything he had into staying standing and not trying to move. He desperately wanted to scream and cry, he wanted to ask for his mother, he didn’t want to die. It took every ounce of strength he had not to beg like the warlock had, but he knew they wouldn’t budge.

Horace wanted him dead. Wanted to make an example out of him. He was everything this new government hated and they would never show him mercy. 

So he didn’t cry, or beg, he thought about how he would hopefully get to see his father, and Max. He said one last prayer to the angel to protect his children and that they would forgive him for leaving them. When he heard the lever moving, he squeezed his eyes as tightly shut as possible, held his breath and waited. 

What he felt next wasn’t flames it was the weird stomach dropping sensation of going through a portal.

His eyes snapped open and the last thing he saw was Horace Dearborn pointing and shouting at him. He felt the chain attached to the grate ripping off, the force dislocated his shoulder and the pain blinded him for a second. 

When his vision snapped back into place he was rushing through portal matter and the next thing he knew he was flying onto a hard floor. His hands were still handcuffed so he hit the ground with nothing to break his fall. His head collided with the concrete, and he rolled onto his back. The pain hit him like a truck and his vision started to swim. He fought it and then he saw Magnus’ face floating above him, anxious but smiling. 

Alec knew he was safe and let go, he lost consciousness and everything went black. 


	3. Chapter 3

Alec opened his eyes, his head was pounding and his vision swayed as he tried to figure out where he was. He was lying on a soft bed but he felt like every part of his body was aching. He tried to remember how he got here, but he couldn’t get his thoughts to sync up. His shoulder was throbbing, and when he looked he noticed his wrists and hands were red and grazed. 

He slowly pushed himself into a half sitting position and he realised he was at home. His brain felt like it had been rattled around in his head, and he felt a tender spot on his temple which he was sure was a bruise. The effort of sitting made him feel dizzy but he persevered until he was completely upright.

Waking up here shouldn’t have felt strange, but it did, and he had the cold feeling that he should be somewhere else. Despite the swirling sensation in his head he swung his too heavy legs around to the edge of the bed and put his feet onto the floor.

He suddenly got a flash of his feet pressing into the grate, feeling the remains of someone else’s charred body and everything snapped back into place. Alec remembered the execution, the portal and he remembered Magnus had brought him back. Where was Magnus, he felt an overwhelming need to be near him, to touch him. 

The thought of what would have happened if he hadn’t been brought back hit him like a train. He started to feel violently sick and shaky, the world began to close in on him. He called to Magnus as he fell forward onto the ground, his voice catching in his throat. 

Magnus obviously heard him, or at least heard him fall, because the door swung open. Magnus was at his side in a flash, helping him to his knees, ready to do whatever Alec needed. For once in his life Alec didn’t even try to hide his feelings, he dropped his head into Magnus’ shoulder and let out a long held sob. 

He cried out of relief, and, out of fear as the realisation of how close he was to death rolled over him. Everything was coming in waves and he felt like he might simply implode with the magnitude of it. Magnus pulled him close whispering assurances into his ear, stroking his hair and rocking him slightly as if he were a baby. 

Alec had no idea how long they sat there, it could have been seconds or hours, he had lost all sense of time. He could barely catch his breath, his body was shaking like a leaf and the waves of dread were threatening to overwhelm him. 

Magnus was whispering to him in Indonesian, something he often did with the children when they were upset. Alec knew he was trying to calm him down,but it wasn’t working, his heart rate was climbing and he was starting to panic.

Magnus called out and Catarina walked into the room. She knelt down on front of Alec and put her hand gently on his neck to check his pulse. “Alec, darling, I’m going to give you something to calm you down, you’re in shock and you need to rest”. Alec nodded his head, not even looking up at her. He suddenly felt a pinch in the side of his neck, Catarina had injected him with something. He wanted to ask what it was but he couldn’t speak, everything was starting to go fuzzy and then the world went black.

When he awoke a second time it took just a moment for the memories to come back, but his time he had a handle on his emotions. He was back in bed, the room was filled with moonlight, it was obviously late. He turned on his side and realised that Magnus was lying beside him, fast asleep.

Alec studied his sleeping face, he was beautiful like this. He had no makeup on, he looked so young and not the centuries old warlock he was. Alec was hit with an overwhelming wave of love, he almost couldn’t breathe. He was so lucky to have Magnus, and he was so desperately in love with him it sometimes knocked him off his feet. Being here with him after thinking he would never see him again made Alec want to cry with relief, but it also brought his fear back.

He needed Magnus, so he selfishly reached out and touched his face. Magnus opened his eyes, and smiled, that sleepy loving unguarded smile he kept only for Alec. Alec shuffled closer so their faces were only centimetres apart. He knew he wouldn’t be able to articulate what he wanted to say, so instead he pressed his mouth against his boyfriends. 

Magnus opened his lips immediately, deepening the kiss. The kiss was messy, they banged teeth, Alec bit Magnus’ lip a little too hard and their tongues danced together in a blistering tango. By the time they stopped Alec was out of breath, his heart was racing, he felt almost delirious. 

He opened his mouth to say something and Magnus put a finger up to his lips. “Alexander, you have been to hell and back, you need to sleep. We’re safe here, the kids are safe, and I promise we will talk tomorrow”. Alec didn’t have to energy to argue so he nodded and laid his head on Magnus’ chest. 

He wanted to listen to his heartbeat and remind himself that they were both here alive. 

Magnus lay staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t get back to sleep after Alec had woken him. His mind was racing, he knew tomorrow they would have to face the consequences of what they had done. 

Catarina’s wards were up around the building which would keep people out for now, but eventually the cohort would find a way to get to Alec. They needed to think of a plan, everything had happened in such a rush that they hadn’t gotten past getting him out.

But, Magnus reminded himself, they did get him out, he was alive. 

He sighed and looked down at Alec’s sleeping form, he was softly snoring in the way he always did. He looked utterly peaceful, so far removed from the shivering wreck he had been earlier. Magnus shuddered at the thought of what Alec had been through. 

He had changed his clothes after they had gotten him back, he had seen the physical damage that imprisonment had done to him. His normally muscular body was slimmer now, Magnus could almost see the outline of his ribs, could see the way his cheekbones stood out so starkly against his skin. The cuts, the bruises, he had looked so battered Magnus barely managed to dress him before breaking down. 

He held back the tears as he looked at him now, even in the dark he could tell how the lack of sunlight had turned his normally alabaster colouring to a chalky grey. This made him look even more like he hadn’t slept in weeks, the circles under his eyes were a mottled navy, the only colour in his face. 

But it wasn’t the physical damage that worried Magnus, not really, they could fix that. It was the emotional and the mental damage that he was worried about. He had never seen Alec break down like that before, never to the point that Magnus couldn’t calm him down. 

Alec was the stoic one, the strong one and he knew that he was able to handle almost everything the world threw at him. Alec faced death every single day, but this was different, and Magnus didn’t know how he would ever recover from almost being burned alive by the very people he fought so hard for. 

Magnus also knew that this fight was just starting. Alec would never give up on his people. He would never allow a man like Horace Dearborn to win, not while he still drew breath. Magnus selfishly wanted him to stay away, to remain where Magnus could protect him. 

He sighed, that was not the man he loved. So Magnus drew closer to his love, and put his hand above Alec’s heart, swearing to himself that he would protect him, or he would die trying.


End file.
